


Amidst the Chaos

by infectiousKnowledge



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Altered Mental States, Angst, Cheerleaders, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Forced Relationship, God Dream is HOT, Gunplay, M/M, Mindbreak, Smut, and others have top dream, bottom!dream, bottom!techno, cheerleader!dream, cumdump baby, dubcon, god!dream, heed those warnings, i headcanon them as switches, if you comment about a lack of warnings, look at the TOC for warnings, look at the first chapter, noncon, prepare for my laughter, so some have top techno, top!Dream, top!techno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectiousKnowledge/pseuds/infectiousKnowledge
Summary: Dreamnoblade Smutshots! I take requests no matter how 'fucked up' they may seem. If you wanna request anonymously, DM me on Discord infectiousKnowledge#8326
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Comments: 64
Kudos: 814





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not shipping real people and I'm sure as hell not going to force them into a relationship, I'm (mostly) not using real-life characteristics of them, I'm shipping their personas, all this is just for fun, I know that they're just good friends and that's great, let it stay like this. Most of those fanfics are just ideas I've come up with and decide to make them into stories with characters based off of these people and their personas, I really, really don't want them to fuck and/or date, that would be gross.
> 
> If a Big Man himself comes down, slaps me in the face, and calls me a nerd, I'll take this down.

**Crumble the Pyramid and Take it From the Top** \- Cheerleader Dream and Football Player Techno are alone in the locker room. 

**Down and to the Side** \- Cumdump Dream? Nobody asked but it's what they get. **Warning for Dubcon and slight Mindbreak**

 **Long Live the Queen** \- Dream is not having the best time with his new companion. **Warning for Forced Feminization, Non-Con, and slight Mindbreak**

 **Choir of the Godly Bells** \- A god's favorite disciple visits them. **Warning for slight Religious Themes**

 **Teetering on the Edge of Death and Pleasure** \- All it took to get his rival on his hands and knees was a single weapon. **Warning for Gunplay and Dubcon/NonCon**

 **Ghosting Sadistically** \- Tommy asks his friends to give Dream some payback for putting him through hell. Techno takes this in a sexual way and Ghostbur just watches. **Warning for Dubcon**

 **Take it Nice and Slow, Baby -** Someone's nervous, and a blonde tries to help them through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the Dreamnoblade Disccorddd: [REDACTED]


	2. Crumble the Pyramid and Take it From the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1729 Words

A dirty-blonde huffed, leaning over and breathing heavily. It was a real workout, the cheerleading team. He was obviously looking forward to a cold shower after he got home, just a few hours of soaking in a cold tub would be- so nice.

He wiped a bit of sweat off his face with his hand and made a noise of disgust, flicking it towards the ground and then rubbing the rest on his waist.

Oh god, his waist.

He wasn't going to think about the skimpy outfit that was clearly against dress code, but also the required uniform. Sometimes he didn't know why he did this. A favor? Fun? A dare? He couldn't remember honestly.

It was fun in the end, fun all the same.

His feet were guiding him to the bleachers to grab his water bottle and he got there before realizing.

"Great practice, Clay-" Some girl on the team was talking to him and hi glanced over, nodding. Right. He really fucked up being on the bottom of the pyramid, and nearly fumbling when catching a flyer.

"You too." He couldn't remember her name, but if he did, he would've said it.

His feet were taking him to the locker room as he drank, happy to see it mostly empty. Wait for everyone to leave- change- go home- shower.

That was the plan.

And it was a perfect plan. The desired plan. The ultimate plan of all plans.

His mind was running the marathon that his body had felt had gone on. It was annoying, but he'd deal with it before getting the well earned rest.

Some time between his thoughts quieting and the people already in the locker room leaving- he remembered something. Something about football practice.

No, he wasn't on the football team- of course he wasn't, he was standing here in thigh-highs and the shortest skirt allowed by the laws of the world. No, there was someone on that football team that always got a kick out of seeing him.

It was an internal debate between natural rest and... Forced rest in a way. Both ended in rest, but one required a bit more from him. It was a simple decision.

That he ran out of time to make, because that person was already next to him and digging in their own locker. "So. Didn't see the cheerleaders on the field." Snippets of pink hair were visible, just beyond the blockade of the open metal door.

"We were in the gym." The response just poured out of him, as if commanded in a way. He didn't mind.

The blonde watched the tufts of hair leave his sight and then return, a nod. "Understandable. I just don't get why the team doesn't think that we won't mind if they're out there."

"Probably for making secret cheers and stuff- surprises for the football jocks." He shrugged, it wasn't his place to know anyway. He wasn't startled by the loud sound of the door closing and kept his eyes and the pinkette- but then on the ground and at his feet.

"Surprises. Coach loves surprises." Their voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"A good surprise." The cheerleader hadn't noticed that the locker room had emptied, everyone going on with their day. Whether it be to their houses, to a food place, or to a store. Everyone was gone.

Leaving him and his friend. If they could be called friends.

He preferred to tack benefits onto the end.

"A good surprise. Wow. That makes it all the better." The voice was monotonous, but still held seeds of humor sewn into the speech. A joke.

"It should... Now. Why're you still here..?-" The blonde's hands unconsciously drifted downward to toy with the edge of his skirt, an inch over the tops of the matching green thigh-highs. Color coordinating, the school was all about that.

"Because... You are?" The other was finally turning to face him, eyes holding a playful light. As if this was all a game.

Foreplay, was what his mind told him. Foreplay, just to get riled up before the real fun starts. The real game. "That's a stupid reason to stick around."

The other's eyes were on the fiddling hands- mind thinking of what was underneath. "Look. I thought it was cute."

Cute would not be a word used to describe it. Clay dropped the edge of the skirt, leaning his shoulder against his own locker. "Cute how?"

"Why don't you stop questioning my word choice." Leaning against the locker or not, being pinned against it was clearly the next step. It certainly was the next step. The blonde huffed, cutting off other noises and acting somewhat surprised.

"Alright. I guess I'll stop verbally doing so." He slid his hands up the other's shoulder, rubbing at the skin through thick pads. He wanted the pads gone, but he'd deal with them for now. The flirty banter was worth keeping the pads around momentarily.

The hands on his hips were a familiar, and a needed- wanted weight. Who thought that sewing the skirt and the top would make things difficult in the sex department. Clearly not the people who made them.

Then again- they probably weren't thinking about that.

The hands were sliding down and under the skirt part of the uniform, residing on his hips underneath. Now that was much better.

The blonde sid his eyes up, meeting the other's and smiling seductively. Sure it didn't feel hot and sexy, but it was hot and sexy. "Someone's eager."

"Yeah. You bet I am."

Oh yeah. This was gonna be fun.

The blonde didn't mind the fingers searching for the waistband of his underwear to pull the pair down to his knees, hands shooting back to their rightful place on his hip bones as the cloth slipped down the rest of the way to his ankle.

The two bodies coordinated a countdown, and on three the blonde hopped up, hooking his legs around the other's waist and getting a face in his neck. He kicked his boxers off the singular ankle they'd stayed attached to and fought off a giggle at the fact that they landed on top of someone else's locker. He sighed, still flushed from his cheer workout and letting the new attention turn it into an embarrassed blush.

Nothing had even really happened yet and he was already feeling quite literally wrecked. Being exhausted was amazing.

He slipped one hand off those stupid shoulder pads and trailed it down to unzip the other's pants, internally pouting at the fact that he got jeans, or at the least a uniform in separate parts. He'd fight for a crop top and skirt instead of the bull shit he was wearing.

"This is probably gonna hurt-" They were both impatient, but they both don't cared either.

"I honestly don't care just fuck me." He said what he was thinking, what was on his mind. More blunt than he'd been before.

He just got a huff, and a sound that the body would make only when rolling the eyes. A few seconds later and he was wincing due to pain, burying his face into the other's shoulder and waiting. Just a minute, he just needed a minute.

He didn't get a minute, yelping and holding on for dear life. Yeah- okay. This was fine. Having the other already painfully buried to the hilt was like ripping the band-aid off. It hurt like hell but in the end was the more effective way to do things.

'Do things', as if this is something productive. Which it would be- if there even was a product from it. In a way there was, producing pleasure and semenal fluids. Because both of those are the only things horny teenagers need.

His thoughts were the best distraction, blinking his eyes back open, sighing at the pain settling down at last. "Move."

"Bossy." Though the other complied, slow and gentle despite the rough entry. The rough entry of the cock in his ass. Cock. Ass. Thinking the two words fizzled his brain, exhaustion talking to him as well as sleep deprivation. He just huffed, enjoying the feeling and staying within the moment.

He huffed, swearing he felt his breath through every last one of his nerve endings. Sensitivity wasn't a feeling, it was a whole ass identity. He was feeling every last breath, tiny motion, and pivot and- he kept his head on the other's shoulder, the pad making an exceptional pillow.

"You're bleeding." Sure the other said it, but they didn't stop.

"You say that like I care." In a way he did, or- he was going to. When he was wobbly on his feet and sitting down suddenly seemed worse than breaking a bone. In the moment though, he could bleed from anywhere- the pleasure could combat the pain and put him in a simple state of bliss.

A pleasant sensation that he hoped would never end. But it would of course. Just not right now. Not for at least another two minutes. Two minutes was all he needed to, quite literally, get his fill.

Two minutes was all it would take. Two minutes of mindless, sweaty pleasure before exhaustion would properly set in. Two minutes that would go by in a fraction of the second. A pleasurable experience ended in no time at all.

And it was, panting and sweating more than before, partly confused- brain not having caught all the way up with the rest of everything. The blonde huffed, not even realizing he had purple splotches covering the divot where neck met shoulder, perfectly in a line.

He set his head back down on the other's shoulder, having thrown it against the metal storage containers at some point where his mind fizzled out.

He closed his eyes, swallowing roughly. "Set me down-" He slid his head to the side, ever so slightly. He didn't realize his feet were on the ground until he was nearly falling over.

He didn't even realize that the underside of his skirt was... Soggy to say the least. He made a small noise of disgust, bending over to pick up the discarded underwear from earlier.

When he turned around his companion was gone. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the cold metal.

That nice cold shower was still part of the plan.


	3. Down and to the Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 359 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Dubcon and slight Mindbreak

A dirty blonde lays back, huffing and breathing heavily. Strips and globs of white paint his face like the mask that'd usually be covering it. He stares at the ground, tongue sticking out slightly and head tilted upwards. A hand ruffled a bit of his hair that wasn't soiled with the bitter fluid and he found himself leaning into the touch. It was nice, soft, and unlike everything else- everyone else that had him on his knees like this. But not even a second later it was gripping and forcing him closer to an area that smelled extremely musky. He kept his eyes off the person, opening his mouth for them to use and abuse.

He stopped crying after the first few times- getting used to it and no longer caring. He had to breathe through his nose, inhaling the musk and scent of sweat. He was fine with it now- in fact, he loved it. He doesn't know what he'd do if he wasn't tied up and treated like this.

His hands and knees were constantly soaked, the white glucose substance both dry and wet on his skin. Crusted across his cheeks yet spilled upon his milky thighs

The intrusion in his mouth was gone, replaced with a few fingers. He suckled lightly, swirling his tongue with little effort. He winced at his head being forcefully pressed against the wall, spreading his knees apart from the new position and waiting

One. He counted in his head, all the way to five and then it reset with the next. Two. He kept his eyes off the other, not wanting to look at the person choosing to defile him. He had become distracted and his breath hitched slightly, head throwing back against the wall and falling down and to the side

He was jostled against the wall, pressed further up to it. A hand held his face lightly, tilting his chin up to try to get him to look at them. He didn't of course, keeping his eyes down and to the side

Down and to the side, down and to the side. Thoughts just as repetitive as the movements.


	4. Long Live the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1749 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Forced Feminization, Non-Con, and slight Mindbreak

Hands slipped to the buttons on his blouse. "Don't." He gripped both wrists, shoving the other person away. It wasn't too effective, the other instead throwing an arm around his shoulder. He felt the hand connected to the arm cup his cheek from behind and stared down at the ground, angrily. "Leave me alone."

"Listen, my queen-"

"I'm not your damn queen and I never will be-" The other man scoffed at his triumph and grabbed his wrists, forcing him to throw his arms over the other's shoulders in an effeminate hug. "How many times do I have to say it." He tried to fight away from the other, yet it didn't work, his hands trapped in place behind the pinkette's neck.

The man leaned back, forcing the dirty-blonde to lean forward and it angered him. "You keep saying that- and yet you're wearing the skirt that you so rightfully belong in."

"I hate it."

"I know you do." There was a pause, a long bit of silence as the two stared at each other. The blonde was actively trying to get away, the other not letting him. "Just give in, honey."

"I'm not your damn honey- and I'm not going to give in. This fucking... This isn't right-" The fighting blonde turned his head to the side, pinkette cupping his cheek. The dirty-blonde slapped the hand away, thankful for getting a free hand to continue to fight with.

It didn't get him far, wrists held in the other man's hands. "But look at your pretty skirt-" He was being picked up by his waist to be spun around to face himself in a mirror- the man behind him. The hands previously attacking his blouse went to the skirt, toying with the fabric.

"It's not mine." He was adamant about that fact. He also had his mind set on not looking at his own bare face. Dresses- skirts- panties- he could deal with that. He couldn't deal with a dolled up face.

"But just look..." The pinkette pouted, words taking on a slight quiver.

The dirty-blonde spared a glance- a quick one. It was basic- just some lipgloss and a teeny bit of blush. It disgusted him- he couldn't even recognize himself no matter how minute the details changed. His breath hitched with the hand trying the sneak itself up the skirt. He could deal with that to- he couldn't deal with himself.

"Pretty...." One hand came to caress his abdomen and he flinched. "The one thing I want- and the one thing that can't happen."

Fuck that. This guy was so fucking creepy. The boy just wanted to go back to school or something, he didn't want to be in this room- he didn't want to be wearing any of this shit- and he didn't want some guy touching his stomach in a longing way. "Leave me alone."

He slapped at the hand and it retracted, the man's face gaining a slight glare in the mirror, though the blonde wasn't paying attention to that. "Why don't you love me..?" The blonde knew why. He knew very fucking well why he wouldn't love the other.

His eyes were drawn to a gold band on his finger, a few sizes too tight so not even a bit of oil or grease could remove it. He frowned at the stupid ring- remembering the painful experience of it being forced onto his finger.

"Doesn't matter." His pleated skirt found hands forced under the waistband. "Because you'll be mine soon, baby." With hands in his skirt and lips on his neck- the dirty-blonde sniffled lightly. "Whether you like it or not."

The blonde knew what that meant and he put his own hands on the back of the others. The hands currently trying to just pull down his skirt. "Don't-"

"Did you not hear what I said?" The voice was a whisper in his ear, lips moving against the soft skin of his neck. "Whether you like it or not, dear." Fingers brushed against the ring and the blonde felt himself finally tearing up.

He was lifted again and dropped face down into soft pink bed sheets, forced into a strange position on his knees. He tried to flail his arms- only to have them handcuffed to the headboard uncomfortably. He had pulled on the chain multiple times- yanking, receiving a literal slap on his ass for trying. He closed his eyes, burying his face into the pillow to muffle screams he knew would most likely arise because of the activities that were about to commence.

A hand was rubbing at the swatted flesh, pushing the skirt up and onto his back to reveal those god damned panties he'd been forced into. The small bits of skin between the white underwear and the tops of matching thigh-high socks were pinched lightly by strong hands- rubbed with thumbs. "You look so good like this, you know that?-"

He didn't want to react- he swore to himself to keep quiet and to not move. He got another swat and his hands just barely shifted.

"I want you to look at me when I talk to you-" He kept his head down, tears staining the pillowcase. He nearly cried out when his hair was slightly pulled to force his head up. "You're still so pretty, you know that?-"

He knew. He knew all of these things- they'd been said a million times before. He forced himself to not believe them- to retain a bit of dignity. No matter what happened- he forced himself to remember who he was and not get affected by any of this guy's mind games.

"You're even prettier when you're not asleep. I had to hold myself back then, but now I can take you without hesitation." A hand was on the globe of his ass, patting and rubbing at it. Of course, the guy watched him sleep- he fucking spooned him every night since he'd been here.

He closed his eyes and willed his tears away- willed this whole place away. He wanted it to be some cruel nightmare- he didn't want it to be real.

He didn't want the hands pulling down the underwear to just above his knees to be real. He definitely didn't want the thumb prodding at his entrance to be real- he didn't want any of these touches.

He let out a muffled cry at the thumb penetrating him without any lubricant- it stung. His tears soaked the pillow, and his sobs were muted.

The thumb's motions were slow and gentle- and he hated it. He hated it and he cried.

He couldn't tell how long it had been of the thumb trying to work him open gently when another, slender finger slid in alongside it. It hurt just as much, maybe even more so.

He didn't want the faint sound of a zipper sliding along its track to be a common sound. This wasn't the first time he'd heard it, but it was the first time he was rightfully afraid. There were times he was woken by the sound, but not even then did he feel paralyzed.

With a threat of added pain, he stayed perfectly still, waiting. He didn't want to wait, he didn't want to be in this position. He honestly couldn't remember how he got here either. This man was nice, he knew him. Coming in every morning to buy a coffee from the local cafe. His world was flipped after he tried to get to know him better, and this had become the daily norm.

Not this exactly, but other forms. Sitting in the man's lap, getting a horrid milky fluid all over himself on nearly the daily. A little boy-wife, if he could even be called that. He didn't want this, he didn't want any of it.

He'd distracted himself with his thoughts that he hadn't realized he was already being jostled, and the headboard of the bed was gently rocking into the wall. The other was so sweet at times, forceful at others- and this seemed to be gentle and soft.

He hated it, his body accepting the caring treatment. He hated that, the fact his body would give in and his mind would continue to fight. He sniffled, trapped in a prison being defiled in all the right but wrong ways.

It was horrible.

He huffed, biting into the fabric in front of him. At least he had the pillow for comfort. In a situation like this, with a creep like this- he could find solace in one thing. One comforting thing. He slid his eyes up to the cuffs, wondering why he didn't fight harder, wondering how he got here anyway.

Wondering when the hell this fucker would finish, wondering when he could go home. There were so many what-ifs. So many choices that could have been made differently to avoid this outcome. He frowned at the feeling of lips against the back of his neck, a body fully on top of him now. "There we go, baby..." The blonde didn't react to the words whispered into his ear. "Taking me so well." He hated it, he hated it so much, the words made everything worse.

He moved his head out of the way somewhat, laying down. The lips just followed him, a hand gently petting his hair while a certain spot inside of him made him see stars in his vision. He was calming down, he was giving up. He was accepting it.

"There we go, honey... Just relax..." He was getting used to it, the blonde stared off at the wall, at that mirror, eyes blurry as they zeroed in on his tear-stained face. He couldn't find it in himself to outwardly fight anymore, his brain giving up on him too. He slowly looked to the right, seeing the hips gently pressed against the globe of his ass, moving away, and then slowly coming back. "Doing so good." He could see the other turning to look at the mirror too, meeting his eyes in it.

He squeaked at a grunting noise right in his ear, and a horrible feeling of liquid coating his insides. His hands were gently uncuffed, and his body rolled over so he was laying on his back. His eyes, having been taken away from the mirror, stared up at the man hovering over him.

"Look at you... I've said it once, and I'll say it again. You're so beautiful my queen."


	5. Choir of the Godly Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1992 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for slight Religious Themes

The man knelt down at the altar in time with eleven golden bell chimes, looking up at the pretty stained glass window. Green was a common color in the design, interpreted to represent life and ambition. Details of gold and white, wisdom and innocence. The translation couldn’t have been more wrong for that last part.   
  
The man, tucked a strand of pink hair behind his ear, thinking to himself. The god worshipped here, thought to be one to celebrate, and appreciate. One to devote a life to, study the legends surrounding them, why they were set in stone to begin with. Why churches spread word of them, why songs were sung. 

The man sighed and closed his eyes. This god had two faces. They spread chaos in the shadows, posing as the ideal figure. This man knew him well. The gods never died, and this ‘false’ idol was no exception.

He blinked, slowly. Gazing up at the boots now standing directly in front of him that weren’t there before. A soft smile on the divine being’s face. “Haven’t seen you around here in awhile, my disciple.” The translucent veil covering green eyes was flowing slightly, as if a breeze was manipulating the thin fabric. 

The kneeling man shrugged at the other’s feet. “I’ve been busy.” He kept his eyes down, not looking up at the trickster standing before him.    
  
“Too busy to see little old me..?” They kept their smile, green eyes giving away their motives. Devilish desire. Fitting for a god of their stature. “You’re my favorite mortal. You know that?”   
  
The pink-haired man nodded, finally meeting the other’s eyes. “...I’m here to offer myself.”   
  
“You always are.” The god crouched down before the man, reaching out to trace a scar stretching over the bridge of his nose, fading just under his eyes. “That’s new.”   
  
“The humans are fighting.”   
  
“I bet they are. They have a lot to live for and status they do not want to give up.” The god stood, then sitting back, crossing their legs on the podium. It was their favorite place to perch in the entire church.

The highest spot in the building, elevated by a few steps to a sort of stage, their position always in front of the beautiful glasswork. The way light would shine in and frame their figure like a halo, described as a godly sight. 

“But they cause such destruction with their wars.”   
  
“And that is their problem. Are you here to chat, or are you here to enact the… Ritual.” He smirked down at the other. It wasn’t a ritual by any means, a pseudo title. 

“I’m here to do both.” He never addressed the god by name or pseudonym. The god’s title was never uttered from his lips. “But if you’re that impatient, then I suppose I’ll get on with it.”   
  
The god clapped their hands, smiling with joy. “Oh goodie, and here I thought you’d make me wait a milenia Techno. I’ve waited longer in the past, but I’ve grown tired of battling time and other’s need to live by it.”   
  
The man huffed, pushing his robe down and letting it hang off his shoulders. The fur from the cape brushed against his neck and collarbone with the shifting, a pseudo king kneeling before a false god. 

Leather boots found their place on the marble ground, the god standing once again. ‘They really need to make some more comfy spots in this place, my disciple.”   
  
“I’ve talked about it, and then they ask me why. I simply cannot answer.”   
  
That got a chuckle out of the god. “You’d answer and they’d either think you're crazy and never trust you again-” They turned just barely, staring at the other over their shoulder. “- Or they’d kill you immediately.” They sat down, just barely taller than the phony monarch due to the marble steps. Their nimble hands undid every last button on the disciple’s shirt, pushing his robe off fully.    
  
The crimson fabric pooled against cold granite, moonlight casting through the elegant stained glass to cause an illusion of a pattern. “They would. Wouldn’t they.” The pinkette reached a hand up, tracing a scar across his torso and cheek. “Drag me further into their wars and sacrifice me as a simple pawn.”   
  
“That’s all you are to me after all, my disciple- a pawn. But there is no reason for human’s to treat you like that.” A reminder. He was not on the same divine level as this being. He was just another mortal, the god’s chosen favorite, but a mortal nonetheless. “They should treat you like the star that you are, an angel in the sky that has graced the feeble ants with its presence.” The god traced their own hands over the man’s scars. “They should call you by your name, and your title you fought to earn.” The god closed their eyes, cheery. “They shouldn’t go think they’re gods and are above you. That’s my job.” They took off their own coat, a sort of cape. The green and white silk, a perfect compliment on the marble, gold trim shining in that ever present moonlight.   
  
The sort of sweater vest left behind was reminiscent of a forest, beautiful greens that complimented the shining emeralds for eyes.    
  
“Remember that my disciple. You might be an ant, but you still hold more power than the others do. You’re important to me, for a multitude of reasons. You matter to me, and that means that you should be worshipped by the humans as well. Lesser of course, but still praised for who you are. An ant they can relate to, look up to, cater to. They should all be at your beck and call, my disciple.” The hands tracing over scars retracted, the god sitting back on their knees. Under normal circumstances, the figure would never be caught like this. However, this was special. The god could kneel, the god could do whatever they pleased in front of their favorite ant. Their favorite bug that they’d yet to squash. Their ant that thought no less of them for doing things that the other ants would call heresy or blasphemy. 

Those ants were not special. They did not get visited by their god. They did not get touched by their god. They did not get addressed by their god.

  
The man stayed silent as the god’s hands traced scars all over his figure. Both silent, the only sounds of fingers rubbing against skin. Those hands, delicate and stained with purity instead of grime like the man’s own, found their way down to push the man back. The marble was cold, but the man was not going to complain or hint to discomfort. 

Legs spread to the god after his pants had been pulled off, the god looking down at him unlike he did every other ant. Instead of disgust and hatred for the way the ants would fight each other, and ask the god to aid them, give them an advantage. Their favorite ant was unlike the others. Coming to his place of worship to think instead of question and demand. The bug was different.

With a leg folded to be pressed up to his chest, and a god that had unbuttoned their own pants, he sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. It might as well have been a ritual for the things that the act did to him. His breathing hitching in a way he would never get used to, a sort of pain accompanied by a nearly overwhelming pleasure, and the god staring down at him- watching each emotion and expression. Absolutely drinking it all up.

For a god thought to represent ambitions and innocence- nothing about this was pure. Just raw, unadulterated sin and pleasure. Chaos and destruction is what the god really craved. Sure they hated the humans fighting each other, but they did not mind the breaking of alliances and trust. It was when groups crumbled from the inside out did they enjoy the fall of nations. Enemies were no fun, betrayal was the god’s greatest guilty pleasure.   
  
Their disciple would cause that chaos for them, sewing seeds of doubt. The god’s one true follower. The one that knew everything, what the god really wanted. Which he’d give to them. “Fuck-” Give them the destruction they wanted and so much more. The pleasure that humans gave each other, the company, and the friendships. He gave the god all of that, getting the same in return.   
  
When it came down to it, they were both lonely. A warrior people were scared to approach, and a god’s whole purpose lost in translation.    
  
The god was always silent during the self proclaimed ritual, just licking their lips and keeping eyes on their companion. It didn’t affect them the way it did the mortal. It felt nice, godly even, but it never elicited an extreme response from the plush, perfectly sculpted lips. 

They used one hand to keep the pinkette’s leg up and against their chest, bringing the other one up to trace over a scar on his cheek. A perfect slash. It broke the god’s heart, they didn’t want their disciple thrown around and cut by the ants that were below the imposing man. “Next time they leave marks. You come talk to me.” He couldn’t heal the ones left long ago in time, but fresh- he could remove the stain.   
  
“Of course-” It was fast, almost choked out. Heated skin partly pressed against cold marble and enchanting cotton, a difference- a dance between hot coal and chunks of ice. His face screwed up into an expression that was like an open-book to the god. Told the divine figure that their disciple enjoyed it. They enjoyed it too. 

  
Eventually, they tucked their face into the other’s neck, catching a big sniff of sweat, and the faint scent of themself. They could never describe it, but they knew it was them. Their lingering presence.    
  
A scar that did not leave ugly marks or put a bitter taste in someone’s mouth to think about. The god loved it. This man was their disciple, this perfect specimen- a creature of war. Perfect to spread their chaos, and their wants and their needs.   
  
Perfect to make cities crumble and grow deceit in the garden of everyone’s minds.    
  
They left their mark, inside of their disciple, pulling out and away, not even realizing that their ant had left their own sort of mark all over himself. They were never in the moment of the act humans described as sex, far off in their own little world. Thinking of their disciple and how helpful he was. Their outfit was back in place within seconds, the gentle non existent breeze moving their cape in tandem with the veil.   
  
A bell was heard off in the distance. A repeating dronning tone with breaks only to start the same low note. Twelve chimes in quick succession. “It’s midnight my disciple. I must bid you farewell. I trust that you can take care of yourself.” The god nodded once, bowing shortly to their disciple.    
  
The glass seemed to glow behind their figure before they shattered into particles of green and gold light. The shards dropped and hit the marble, snuffing out in time where they laid. Little fragments of stars and divine energy- dying out.   
  
The man hadn’t gotten to respond in the time they were present and cleaned himself up with a part of his cape that wouldn’t be seen by others. He huffed, rubbing at his flushed face. “Of course.” He knew they were still listening in though.


	6. Teetering on the Edge of Death and Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3016 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a collab with [THIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikadoesnotgiveafuck/pseuds/mikadoesnotgiveafuck) lovely person go check them out RIGHT NOW.
> 
> Also- I'm working on the requests, don't worry. Tryna make most of them with the while and not incredibly short
> 
> Warning for Gunplay and Dubcon/NonCon

The cold barrel of the gun was pressed against his forehead, limbs shaking and pupils dilating. He was cycling through feelings. Fear, Lust, Relief.

Logically he knew the safety was on, he was in no real danger, however the thrill of this new sensation made him shudder and squirm against the tight hold the other had on him. His heart was pounding so loud Dream feared it could be heard through the tense silence and then- and then the quiet click of the safety turning off snapped him out of his trance.

But he didn't speak, holding his breath. It was better like this- there was actual risk. It was thrilling, it was perfect. He went to slip one of his hands up to cover his mouth, finding himself choking on a moan. "Hands stay down." He obeyed, grabbing at the sheets instead of his face.

It was tempting to disobey but right then the pressure on his forehead was increased, a silent warning. A gentle but firm hand reached out to grab his chin and he let him, unable to do much more than sit there and take it. No, he thinks, he is just trying to not get shot here. It was a poor attempt at masking the sheer excitement he felt when his face was angled so he was forced to look at Dream.

The blonde was looking down at him, pushing him back into the pillow. "Listen to me. Listen very closely, Techno." There was a smirk in his words, though his lips were pursed into a thin line. "You turn your attention away from me and this is going straight under your chin."

His legs were threatening to give out beneath him, his head was spinning at the mere thought of that action and his imagination ran wild. Techno felt lightheaded at the mere thought of the blonde manhandling him however he pleased. Of course, Dream didn't seem to like that very much, a sigh escaped him and Techno felt a helpless whimper slip past his lips.

The gun was shoved into the other's pale skin, scarred from battles of the past. He forced the other to lay down completely. "We're, going to have a bit of fun. Okay, Techno?" The blonde's hand, calloused from years of weilding an axe or firing a bow, slid across the other's abdomen. It traced the pinkette's hip bones, finding its home at the other's adam’s apple- lightly pressing on it.

It was intoxicating, a high Techno was afraid of indulging in. He was enjoying this too much, at the mercy of his rival, for once out of control. The light touch did nothing to soothe his quickening heartbeat and then the hand pressed on, invading everything Techno had been desperately trying to hide.

Dream's clothed knee came closer from his position, propped up over the other. He forced the denim between Techno's legs, pinning one down to the bed and using his hand to keep the other up- spreading them apart. "Do I make myself clear?" He'd been talking. Telling Techno that if he struggled or denied him, there'd be consequences.

Those words slipped past him though, no coherent thought forming as all Techno could focus on was the cold gun now snuggly positioned under his chin. He shivered slightly, trying his damnest to ignore his dick slowly rising to attention. Dream however, seemed to find some kind of sick delight in seeing him trembling underneath him, rock hard and very much naked.

The blonde was definitely enjoying the sight, letting that jailed smirk finally come to light on his features, twisting his eyes. An evil gleam in charming emeralds. "I'll take that ans you understand." He pulled the gun away, flicking the safety back on with a smirk. He wanted to give the other a bit of breathing room.

For now.

Techno refused to make noise as cold hands gently, once again, traced the muscles on his stomach, this time moving with a certain determination. With the looming threat of the gun still in mind, he stayed perfectly still as Dream now neared his cock. The blonde smiled, like he'd find something precious, and he could feel his cheeks flush as his cock was engulfed in the others hand. Holy fuck. Dreams whole hand fit around his dick. As he was distracted Techno was yanked out of his amazement as he was pulled into a bruising kiss.

The gun was set aside, but close enough to be grabbed at any moment, a lasting fear. Techno was shaking into the kiss, hands threatening to pull Dream's wrist away- legs threatening to close. He remembered the threats, keeping his hands down. But the idea of closing his legs, it spoke to him. He gently squeezed Dream's knee between his thighs. Even if the blonde was sliding his rough hand up and down- ever so slowly. It wasn't enough.

He was gently and slowly grinding his hips against Dream's knee, nearly crying out at the other grinding back. A rough motion to get him to stay still. The hand left his shaft, pressing on his abdomen, forcing him to lay still. "What do you think you're doing?"

The reaction was too much. Dream was staring down at him with cold eyes, hands holding his hips tightly in anger and Techno froze in fear. He was Technoblade for gods sake. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't, he wouldn't submit to- he choked as Dreams hand was suddenly on his throat. The sensation threatened to overload him and Techno almost brought his hands up again when he met Dreams gaze. The other was simply observing him, not squeezing, not moving, staring down unblinking. He was obviously mad but this was a chance, a test. A silent order to fix his mistake, perhaps?

Techno could understand it. He saw the question, he saw the order- the command. He nodded, swallowing roughly. He knew the blonde could feel the small action and he sighed. The result was instant, Dream letting go of his throat and sitting back, unzipping his jeans; patting his lap. Techno huffed, sitting up and leaning over, wincing when he was pulled down. With his face in Dream's crotch, he looked up at the blonde. Cold, but amused eyes stared down at him.

He was not going to successfully worm his way out of this one. He was at the blondes mercy, literally kneeling at his feet, ready to worship him like a god and strangely Techno couldn't find a single reason that told him to not obey this man. The voices were silent for once in his life and Techno released a shuddering breath as he leaned forward to unzip the others button fly. Without his hands of course. Techno gritted his teeth and tried not to lose it as he slowly worked on freeing the already hard cock straining against the dark fabric.

It sprung up, slightly leaking precum already and he found himself hit with an urge to lap up the substance. He obeyed his self-given command, lightly licking at the slit. Salty and bitter, but sweet in a way he couldn't bother to ponder. He laid his head down on Dream's thigh, looking up at the other to realize he was staring down the barrel of that fucking gun. He understood, averting his eyes and gently licking from the base to the tip, and back down again.

A hand was threaded into his long hair but Techno kept going, lightly starting to suck on the top. He knew how this worked, pleasuring cock was like pleasing his own dick so it couldn't really be that difficult. Techno was a fast learner, he would get it soon. By Dreams quickening breath and harsh groans he was apparently doing good. The gun was still held above him but Techno ignored it, easily bobbing his head up and down to get in as much as possible. Dream was bucking his hips a bit, meeting his pace and Techno almost choked as a particular strong thrust sunk the whole thing into his mouth, effectively cutting off his airway. 

Techno wanted to move his head but Dream held him still, hand still keeping him firmly in place and the gun was pressing into his sides now, his vision slowly wavering. He was losing air, he needed to breathe but Technos brain was not thinking straight so the thought of breathing through his nose didn't even cross him.

He kept his eyes locked with Dream's, able to see the emeralds through the small eye-holes. It was dark, but the green was bright under a veil of shadow. Bright with certain emotions. If Dream's actions didn't show he was loving this, his eyes surely did. Techno looked away, the corners of his vision darkening before he was pulled up and held off by his hair. "Breathe through your nose, slut. It'll make things easier." He would've spat protests, but the gun was between his eyes and he was pushed back down onto Dream's cock. 

He wasn't a slut. He reminded himself of this fact. He was just- accepting a defeat to win again another time. He hated that he thought of this as defeat, he could still fight- he could- 

The safety was clicked off once again and his mind blanked. Cock in his throat and breathing heavily through his nose, he was frozen in place. He felt the cold metal against his temple and closed his eyes, blinking. "You should get moving."

Techno did as instructed, slowly but surely, hand in his hair gently guiding him before forcing him into a rough pace.

The pace had quickened, no longer allowing Techno any freedom to explore the limits, the boundaries. Dream took complete charge, using him however the blonde needed right now and Techno could do nothing but let himself be taken along for the ride. No resistance was as bad as obedience. Dream had him, every inch of him and it didn't even faze Techno as much as it should. The masked man groaned quietly and Techno opened his eyes staring up. He had his eyes clenched, the gun hanging loosely to the side and Techno allowed himself a moment to imagine what would happen if he tried to grab the metallic thing. 

_Dream was mid moan when Techno would rush up, using the element of surprise to knock his head into the others, hoping to throw him off balance for just a moment. It would work if only for a bit and Dream brought both hands to his head at the same time that Techno would reach out to grab the gun. It was so very close and he only needed-_

Techno snapped out of it. Dream was staring down at him, eyes glinting with satisfaction and that is when Techno noticed the cock wasn't even in his mouth anymore. There was no pressure, nothing clawing at the back of his throat but instead there was cum dripping down his chin, smearing his cheeks and forehead. Dream made a soft noise as he lowered the gun close to the pinkettes face and Techno froze as the other used the cold metal to spread the cum further. The safety was still off and Techno was once again frozen, defenseless and shivering slightly. The fucker had come on his face.

Even though he couldn't see the blonde's expression too well, he could recognize the victorious sparkle in the forest behind Dream's mask. The fucker loved this, so obviously loved it. He huffed, feeling defiant again, hearing the safety click back on. Dream was having too much fun with that.

He was pushed back, hands reaching up to cling to the part of the pillowcase on either side of his head. He glared up at the blonde that was forcing his legs apart again. He was about ready to spit on the other when the gun was forced into his mouth.

His brain was fuzzy for all of thirty seconds, tasting the metal and a slight hint of grease. It was cold and uncomfortable- and now it was sopping wet with saliva.

"Look Techno- I'm going to give you a choice. You stay silent and I shoot you... Or you stop holding back those delicious moans while I fuck you with the gun-" The blonde spun it around his finger, holding it up. He didn't really have a choice, did he.

Judging by Dreams shiteating grin, barely visible because of that stupid mask, he really did not. Techno wanted to scream, to shout, bite, anything but obey this power hungry man. His choice was ripped from him once again, when apparently Dream deemed his sucking to be enough already, and a knee was shoved in between his legs. Techno, upon remembering his words, moaned quietly earning an amused chuckle and then Dreams fingers were prodding at his entrance. It was replaced by the saliva coated gun quickly enough and Techno whimpered as a moan involuntarily escaped him. Oh hell, he was enjoying this.

Dream's hand splayed out on the pinkette's stomach, fingers dancing along his skin and tracing shapes while he forced the barrel further up and into him. It felt- it felt good and he hated that fact. He glared directly at the eyes of the mask, face flushed and lips quivering, moans threatening to spill. With the click of the safety turning off again, the damn broke- a choked sound falling from his lips and the gun jerking to the side, cold metal stinging against an extra sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His face relaxed, his limbs slacking while he stared off at the wall. He felt it, every ridge and metallic bit was cold against his warm walls. It was torturous and he found himself sniffling, confused as to the source of the sound.

"Are you crying, Techno?"

He hadn't even realized thick hot tears were rolling down his cheeks, the high pitched noises that came out of his mouth were unnatural to his ears and Techno desperately tried to get the tears to stop.

Dream's spare hand came up, the other toying with the safety, filling the air with relentless clicking. His palm landed on Techno's cheek, dragging through globs of drying semen.

He ran his thumb through one and pushed it past Techno's lips, forcing into into his mouth. It was just as salty and butter as the precum, but felt weirder on his tongue. This had substance, nearly jellied from cooling in the air. He decided he didn't like it.

At least Dream's hands were going away, going to rub at himself. The blonde couldn't deny the gorgeous sight in front of him. He knew a gun could get the famous Technoblade belly up with a facial. He was smirking behind his mask, jerking the gun and savoring the sounds the pinkette was making.

Techno's dick twitching was not lost on him.

It was, however, lost on Techno himself, who was still choosing to defy him in the most subtle ways possible. Dream was no fool, he noticed the little glares and the slightest gritting of teeth, but he found he didn't particularly care. Techno was being largely obedient, letting himself be fucked like a good little slut. Dream stroked himself a bit faster, pace quickening with shoving the gun into the other as well and Techno made a soft broken sound, delicious tears still streaming down his pretty face.

Techno was muttering, giving in and giving up with his words, sounds betraying him as well as his body. Dream reached out, dropping himself in favor of squeezing the base of Techno's cock. He was denied an orgasm, head lolling to the side. It was true torture, he was close and the least Dream could do for him was give him that, give him release.

The blonde just licked his lips, keeping the tight grip on Techno's shaft and sliding the gun out. He forced it back into Techno's mouth, using his knees to prop the pinkette's legs up to roughly enter him.

It was only a few seconds of thrusting before he was cumming deep inside the other, eyes filled with glee. He was wondering why he didn't think of this before, why it took him so long to make the other cower before him. 

Techno's cries were music to his ears

They remained like this for a few precious moments. Both of them bathing in the afterglow, breathing hard and shallow. Techno, dazed and disoriented froze as he heard the telltale sound of the safety clicking off. No no no no- Dream was supposed to be leaving him alone, the other had already taken everything, he couldn't have his life, he- Techno couldn't breathe. "You did so well baby." His words were like honey, confusing him further and Techno panicked again as the gun was pulled out of his mouth and placed on his temple. Was this it? Was he going to die like this, naked and covered in cum? His everything was hurting. Maybe- Maybe it was for the best- no. Techno wanted to slap himself. Give up? Never. Dream sighed softly and Technos eyes darted up barely being able to see the others' faces. 

The blonde was smirking under the mask, lifting a hand and in turn lifting the ceramic. The cold air hit his plush lips, stinging at the scars on the visible parts of his cheeks and reminding him of the jagged cuts through his face.

He licked his lips, wetting the skin. His jeans were zipped back up and he watched Techno close his eyes, fearful of what was to come.

It never did though. The blonde just stood, throwing the gun off and hearing it hit the wall, disappearing under piles of items. He got to the door, turning around to see Techno dazed and confused, staring at him.

"Until next time, Techno." The blonde waved, stepping out into the hallway.

Techno slipped to the ground, crumbling as the weight of what just happened came crashing down on him.


	7. Ghosting Sadistically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1531 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tommy has been exiled and dream's been doing all these nasty things to him, he asks one of the SMP members (like techno or wilbur [or anyone that's okay with NSFW being written about them] but i prefer ghostbur) to make dream pay for what he's done, and one of the smp members has an idea of how to, then it goes on from there (basically just satisfying their sadistic needs while making dream suffer)  
> elements: dubcon, crying, hair pulling, choking, etc"
> 
> One of MANY requests
> 
> Warning for Dubcon

The kid had enough. He didn't want it anymore, he'd realized what Dream had been doing. Pushing him further away, trying to take control. His chaos spreading everywhere, sinking his metaphorical claws into Tubbo to make even his best friend go against him. It wasn't fair.

Ghostbur had visited the blonde kid, happy as ever- taking Technoblade with him. Tommy had managed to stay quiet about his feelings but it all came out at once. That Dream had been forcing him to stay away, that Dream had basically been stripping him of everything he had on the daily- forcing him to square one every single time he was around. 

The ghost of his past friend, his past president and leader had given him a strange blue stone and it took all of his will power to not just throw it at the specter. They'd meant well, telling him to calm himself and how it would soak up all of his sadness.

He wasn't sad, he was angry.

Techno could see that.

"Ghostbur. He doesn't want to forget about it. He wants revenge." The man had crouched down to Tommy's height, meeting his eyes. Sparks of anger catching flame.

"You're damn right I do! But I can't do shit out here- he just overpowers me everytime-"

The ghost had frowned, dropping his blue stones. His blue, his newest treasures besides his friend. The fluffy sheep and laid down at the ghost's feet, gently teething at grass and eventually sleeping. "Well- if you look after Friend for me Tommy, then Techno and I can go talk to him."

"I don't want you to talk to him- I want you to make him pay!" Tears had welled up in the kid's eyes, sniffling and staring up at the two adults. "I want you to burn all his items- or blow them up just like he had done to me-" He took the lead from the spirit, sitting down by the napping sheep. "I just want him to know that he can't do this shit forever."

Techno had looked between the kid and floating musician, thinking. The voices demanded blood, he could give them blood- but there was a single that wanted something else. It was himself, his voice. It wanted to do so much more than just appease the cries for blood. It wanted to destroy Dream. Bring him to Hell and kick him back out.

It would be beneficial for both him and the voices. They got their fix, and he got to do whatever he wanted. 

"Oh yeah Tommy, I'll help you. Don't worry." His plans weren't anything shy of quite literally fucking Dream into submission. The dirty-blonde would never agree willingly to stop and go easier on the kid- he'd need to be forced.

Ghostbur had nodded along. "I'll go with Techno, get them to resolve it peacefully." He'd put a strange inflection on the word 'peacefully', like he knew what Techno was thinking. "Maybe we can even have a tea-party or something. Wouldn't that be great Techno?-" The spook looked back at the pinkette, frowning when he realized they were already walking away. "Okay- he means yes. We'll be back, alright, Tommy?-" The ghost waved, running his semi-transparent hand through Friend's fur before following Technoblade.

The pinkette's ideas weren't anything short of getting the blonde to submit. It was the only way besides killing him. He couldn't kill Dream, he was basically allied with the man. This was the only way. "You're coming with me Ghostbur?" That could ultimately cause problems. The ghost was a kind soul, he'd no doubt try and stop Techno.

"Of course! Anything for Tommy. He's like my little brother- if he's got a bully then we need to get that bully to stop. It's common sense, Technoblade-" The ghost tilted his head, smile wide and happy.

"Yeah. You're absolutely correct, Ghostbur. Couldn'tve said it better myself."

And that's how they got here, Techno pushing Dream into a tree- the other man forced down to sitting against it. He rubbed at his bloody nose, wincing when Techno grabbed the front of his collar. The blonde's mask had been snapped in two pieces, lying on the ground at his side. He remained defiant, acting as if he wasn't scared. "Techno. What brings you here."

"You've been bullying Tommy, Dream. Why."

"He's exiled Techno. He fucked up and he's just facing the consequences of stepping out of line." Dream winced again when the back of his head was slammed into the tree again, hand untangling from the front of his hoodie to pull at his hair. "Fuck-"

Ghostbur wasn't watching the other throw Dream around, instead finding himself invested in a little dandelion. "Techno! Did you know that the dandelion is the only flower that represents the 3 celestial bodies of the sun, moon and stars. The yellow flower resembles the sun, the puff ball resembles the moon and the dispersing seeds are the stars!"

"That's great Ghostbur, I'm kind of busy at the moment though."

The ghost had just nodded, staying quiet and plucking at the flower's petals and smiling as they fell onto the green grass.

The pinkette's hands found their way to Dream's throat, squeezing somewhat and forcing the blonde to choke and nearly growl at the other. "Still doesn't answer my-'' He had tried to gasp, scratching at Techno's hand and leaving marks on the man's hands. "-Question."

"I don't owe you an answer more than what I've already said. Ghostbur-" The pinkette let go of the other's neck, letting them breathe only to grab their hair again and force them to lay down on the grass.

The specter turned around, holding the flower stem and smiling. "Yes, Techno- what is it?" The phantom dropped the stem, gently gliding over to the pinkette's side, awaiting instructions.

"You might want to leave."

"Why? I promise I can stay through whatever you're going to do-" The ghost smiled, clapping his hands together. "I apparently blew up a whole nation- I can deal with what you're planning."

"...Alright, Ghostbur." Techno forced Dream back up, the other sneering at him, but not putting up even a sliver of a fight. The pinkette slipped a hand down, unzipping his pants and watching Dream's face contort with anger, surprise, lust, and disgust. All at once. "Oh? So you're looking forward to this?" He watched the flash of anger take over and the blonde tilt his head away, forcing Techno to pull him back up. "Look, I can make this hard or easy on you Dream." The king was smirking, yanking Dream around and watching tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

It was beautiful.

The king licked his lips, sliding his cock out of his underwear and thumbing at his own tip with a smile.

He watched Dream's eyes slid from the ground, to his dick, to his ruby eyes. Emerald glaring at ruby and mouth reluctantly opening up.. "There we go. See, you get it."

The pinkette hadn't quite plunged into the warmth yet, swiping his dick on Dream's cheeks and watching the other flush, struggling to not bite at Techno out of spite. "Fuck you."

"You know, I would- but this'll be better. You'd enjoy getting fucked too much and this is supposed to be a punishment for messing with our baby brother." He listened to the blonde literally growl at him before finally forcing the other's mouth down. He waited for the telltale sounds of choking before keeping Dream down, forcing the other to breathe through his nose.

It was perfect how the other was actively, but also passive aggressively, protesting. Teeth grazing against the underside on the pinkette's shaft, and nose forced into the king's abdomen.

Dream flicked his eyes up, defiant as ever and angry. He had said something with a cock in his mouth, though all it did was add to the pleasure Techno felt. Little vibrations that were so good. "Oh? What was that?"

It sounded like Dream had tried to tell him 'Fuck you' again, but he wasn't one to interpret mindless babbling from a guy currently on his hand and knees.

Techno smirked down at Dream, keeping the eye contact as he choked Dream on his cock.

Ghostbur slowly walked on over, standing next to Techno and looking down at Dream as well. There was something within his brain that just- clicked. Remembering how this man on the ground had helped him spark hatred for himself in everyone's hearts. 

He just sighed and backed away somewhat. He missed Friend and Tommy, hoping they were doing alright together. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Dream trying to say something again. He shook his head, occupying himself with the flowers while Techno pulled out of the blonde's mouth, milking himself over the freckled face.

Strips and globs of white all over, contrasting with bright emerald eyes. Bright, angry emerald eyes. "I hope you've learned your lesson, alright?"

Dream had just spit at him, Techno stepping back and smiling down at the other. "Fuck you."

Techno waved, turning around and getting Ghostbur to follow him. "Maybe next time. Just- behave. Alright?"


	8. Take it Nice and Slow, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1139 Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "its techno's first time, he's really shy and unsure of what to do so dream guides him through it and praises him a lot. he feels nervous about dream seeing his scars so he wears dream's hoodie and maybe ends up riding him in it?? idk man i just want really soft and loving sex where dream takes techno apart piece by piece . lots of kissing nd praise nd 'i love you' 's :,)"
> 
> My brain was short-circuiting, so I hope this is good enough for you <3

The kisses were perfect, heated but gentle. Hands sliding under the lime fabric. “You look good in my hoodie-” It was whispered against plush lips and held promises of an event to come. “You sure you wanna do this-” It was the same soft tone, questioning him.   
  
He just hummed, nodding his head and gasping at the feeling of lips on his neck. His pants were gently being unbuttoned and zipped before being tugged off. His arms were around the other’s shoulders, eyes staring into lust-filled emeralds. He was nervous, but he didn’t let it show, huffing and already panting just from the kisses.

The sounds outside the door of people up late, watching TV- were not lost on the pink-haired male, staring at the door as if someone was going to bust in. He knew the door was locked and his eyes screwed shut with the hand exploring his boxers. "Shit-" 

His legs were jittery, unable to stop squirming. He huffed when hands came down to gently guide him to hook his feet around his companion's back. Things seemed easier like this and the hand was back in his underwear, exploring. 

He bucked his hips up at the feeling of a fingernail tracing a singular vein. It was all a tease. Foreplay. His own hands were scratching at his lover's neck, tugging at their shirt.

He'd already stolen their hoodie and wanted to touch the other all over. He wanted to slide his hands all across him. "Dream." It was floaty, lusty, a soft whisper.

"I know." The other met his tone with the same gentle pitch. He was then leaning back on his knees, pulling off the T-shirt. The pinkette's hands were immediately exploring the other, enamored and amazed.

"Dream-" They'd said it again, the blonde sliding off their underwear and throwing it across the room. The hands that'd been gentle with him the entire time were hooking into the waist and of his boxers, a silent question. "Yes-"

It's only a few seconds of waiting and a strangely good friction before his cock was out in the cold air. The same was done for his hoodie and he shook his head. He needed that to stay.

"Alright-" His companion was leaning back to dig through a drawer, producing a small bottle. "Spread your legs for me, babe."

The pinkette didn't at first, cheeks flushing. They were already this far and he felt like he was choking somewhat, embarrassed.

"Babe?-" The bottle was set down on the end table and the pinkette looked off somewhat, trying to curl up and hide in the hoodie. He was surprised by the hands on his cheeks. "What's wrong..?"

He slowly slipped his own hands up, lacing them over the backs of his partner's. "Embarrassed… Scared- nervous." There were multiple adjectives, multiple feelings.

His breath hitched when nearly forced to make eye contact, hands gently guiding his face to look up. "If you don't want to- that's okay." Gentle lips were on his forehead and he huffed.

"I want to- I do want to…" He knew that for certain. "I just…" The other's hands were softly rubbing his cheeks, thumbs gliding across flushed skin.

"It's alright." It's a soft whisper right into his ear. "We can take this nice and slow. I'll be extra gentle."

The pinkette doesn't believe it for a second, because nothing is happening, so he sits up to see Dream's hand covered in a watery slick substance. A thought crosses his mind from an article he read, it tells him Dream's waiting for it to get warm.

When a thumb was gently prodding at his rim, it was warm and a nice gentle motion to ease him into opening up. He closed his eyes, slowly relaxing. He gently blinked his eyes open, staring up at the other who was just smiling back down at him. A hand on his cheek, and a hand now scissoring him open.

He huffed, shakily moving to pull on the hoodie still covering his body. “I-” He spoke at the exact wrong time, gasping at a third finger joining its pals within himself. He whined, sighing and tightening his grip on the other’s shoulders.   
  
“You’re doing good baby, almost there, alright?” A soft kiss was planted against the side of his head, a smile curling against pink hair. “Doing so good, Techno.” The blonde was gently laying him all the way down against the pillows, hands tangling with the small bits of blonde on the back of the other’s neck.   
  
A leg kicked up around Dream’s waist to rest in the small of his back. There was just a whine from the pinkette, no words, just a mumbled plea. A singular sound that held the weight of so many wants; so many needs.

The blonde had removed his fingers after a good while, wiping them down on the sheets and going to nearly lay on the other, flipping them over so that Techno would be on top. The pinkette was straddling the blonde’s thighs, huffing and sitting back mostly. Dream was standing at attention and the pinkette stared down, hesitant. “Baby-” Dream moved his hands over to hold onto Techno’s wrist, sliding his hold until their fingers were interlaced. “It’s alright, mkay?” The blonde was always so cheery and soft, Techno sliding his eyes down and to the side. He leaned forwards, laying down on top of Dream. There was a soft noise from the blonde, slipping their held hands upwards onto either side of his head on the pillow. “Do you not want to?-”   
  
It wasn’t disappointed, mad, or anything else. It was just a question. “I do-” Red eyes shut, face flushed. “Fuck me, already-” Impatience to hide embarrassment. The blonde sighed, his hands settling down on the other’s hips. The hands were guiding, lifting the pinkette up slightly.   
  
“Okay. So, you- come forward a little bit.” The pinkette obliged, sliding forward and scrunching his whole body up when he slid right over Dream’s dick so it was behind him instead of in front. Dream had screwed a single eye shut, kicking up one of his legs slightly so Techno would be forced to nearly stand on his knees. “And then you-” He slipped a hand between Techno’s legs to grasp himself and lean right on up. “Now you drop down.”   
  
There was still hesitance, Techno sighing and slowly sliding down until he was flush against the other. His eyes were glossy, leaning down and forward to hide in Dream’s neck. “Need- a minute.” The two were quiet, holding onto each other loosely. The blonde slowly closed his eyes, rubbing his hands up and down the other’s clothed back.   
  
“We don’t have to move at all. We could just stay like this for a bit.”   
  
“That… That sounds nice.” 


End file.
